


Days of Atonement

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-12
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, from Atonement, S4, onwards. Set in 2270 (with memories from 2260). Delenn had agreed to accept the decision of her clan regarding her proposed union with John Sheridan. She would come to regret that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How I Disappear

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue from the episode Atonement, written by JMS, and some Minbari terms adapted from the Minbari-English dictionary by J. Hightower
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.

Delenn ra'Valir sat bolt upright in her narrow tilted cot, breathing heavily, her hair damp with sweat. She had been dreaming again. She reached over to the small plain wooden nightstand by the bed, and poured herself a glass of water from a crystal pitcher. Drinking it slowly, letting herself come back to this time and this place, she let her mind wander through the memory of the dream, knowing if she did not work through it while awake, it would only return to haunt her again.

Not that it wouldn't anyway, she thought, carefully replacing the glass on the table. It wasn't like she hadn't dreamed this a hundred thousand times in the last ten years. Dreaming of the Dreaming: she almost laughed aloud at the irony. This time had been different, however. This time the dream had started before the day her life changed, before the day her dreams had disappeared.

The sun was not yet up, and it was hours before the house would be astir. Her position entitled her to a single room, so she was alone, and wouldn't disturb anyone by getting up, and lighting a candle. Taking one down from its niche on the wall, she set it on the table by the pitcher, and lit it, pausing to admire the way the light danced in front of the glass. Settling into a cross-legged position on the stone floor, the cold leaching up through her thin white robes, she dropped into a meditative state, trying to recall what she had dreamed this time. Dreams are one way the Universe speaks to us. In her case, she thought it might be a form of punishment as well.

She'd been standing on the bridge of the White Star, listening to her enemies speak in the voices and words of her friends. Part of her knew John was there; she always knew when he was there. Lorien's hand hovered near her temple, an electrical discharge from his fingers raising the hair on her head. He was broadcasting their thoughts, and the images the Shadows and Vorlons were using to communicate with them, to everyone in the fleet. In her mind, she could hear the First One saying, 'This is all I can do. The rest is up to you.' But then, something different had happened. She had opened her eyes, frozen in place, unable to move, and looked into his face; old, wise, weary beyond the telling. He said to her, 'Do not let him go alone.'

Back in her cell, her eyes flew open again, and she studied the heart of the flame as it burned on the table, set slightly above her head. This was not a memory. Lorien had never said those words to her on that day or any other day. Shaking her head to clear it, she tried to return to her dream, not wanting to relive the rest, but knowing it was necessary to purge it from her waking mind. As her breathing slowed, she returned to her Day of Atonement, in the early morning of the day after she and Lennier had entered the Dreaming...the first time.

She had lain awake for hours after leaving the Dreaming with Lennier, going over and over her friend's words. _And that is why you agreed to become one with Sheridan. You are still grieving for your actions, still guilty over the death of so many humans...you are trying to atone for your mistake. _Lennier was right, there was no way that her clan would see their account of her vision in any other way. They would refuse to let her return. And John would never understand what had happened, and why she would have to stay.

But why had the Dreaming shown her the dreadful day when Dukhat had died, and she had spoken the fatal words that led to the death of millions? What had that to do with her love for John? Knowing it was not self-sacrifice that motivated her, she went over and over the scene in her mind. Finally she realized that she was missing a vital piece of the puzzle. Determined to decipher Dukhat's last words, she got up and headed for the Whisper Gallery once again. Passing Lennier on the way, she gathered him up in her wake, and forged ahead. Callenn caught them just as they were sipping from the goblet once again.

Delenn had initially fumed at Callenn's refusal to come in with them. The man was a coward, she thought, a stickler for protocol, and a fool. At least Lennier had come with her; her loyal faithful Lennier. When they managed to get close enough to hear Dukhat's words, her heart rejoiced as she finally comprehended his meaning. Her old Master had wanted her to know her heritage before he died; but he could not have known what it would mean to her. It meant everything to her.

As they exited the gallery, she went up to Callenn and told him what she had heard. She spoke to Lennier, asking him for confirmation of her account. Glancing back at Callenn, wanting to see the expression on his face as he understood what her newfound knowledge meant, it took her a moment to realize that Lennier had said nothing. Turning back to her friend, she said, "Lennier?"

He would not meet her eyes, looking down at the floor in a parody of their first meeting. She touched his arm, and said, "You must speak, Lennier. Tell Callenn what you heard. Tell him what Dukhat's last words to me were." Silence met her plea, and she began to feel the first beginning tendrils of panic twine around her heart.

Callenn approached Lennier and said, friendly yet troubled. "You were her Guide. You must tell what you saw, and what you heard. How else can we judge the meaning of the Dreaming? It can wait until I gather the clan elders however. Let us convene in the main chamber of the temple, in, shall we say, two hours? Then we will hear." He bowed deeply first to Delenn, and then to Lennier, and left them alone, except for the two guards outside the entrance to the Whisper Gallery.

Delenn pulled Lennier aside, and demanded, in a low fierce tone, "What does this silence mean? You were there! You heard what he said, that I was a Child of Valen! You know what that implies, do you not?" In the face of his continued silence, she protested, "My clans' fears of genetic impurity are baseless in my case. I already contain at least some small portion of human DNA. There is no reason for them to prevent my joining with Sheridan." She gripped his arm tightly in agitation, "Will you speak?"

"I will speak to the elders, as I said." Then Lennier said to her, pity in his voice, "I did not hear Dukhat's words, Delenn."

"How could you not hear? You were right there! Right there with me!" Delenn looked at him, shocked by his statement. Considering this unexpected lack of support for her story, she thought rapidly. "I will need proof of Dukhat's statement. Will you help me access the records of the Grey Council?"

"I do not see how we can do that. The Council may have been disbanded, and is now barely functional, but the security at the Hall of Records remains in place. Besides, what would I be looking for?"

"There are records hidden there that go back a thousand years. I have read of Valen's children, and their history, as far as it is known. If we could show the elders this at least..."

"I will try." Lennier looked at her, his expression carefully neutral. "Delenn, I must ask you...have you considered that you misheard, or are misinterpreting what you heard? A Child of Valen might mean an actual descendant, or it might mean a spiritual heir. You were the first to befriend Sinclair, and you led him to Minbar, and eventually accompanied him on his final journey to meet his fate. It might have been meant as...a metaphor."

"A metaphor!" Delenn almost spat out the words. "This is not a philosophical exercise; this is my life!" Realizing the guards were having difficulty not staring, she lowered her voice and ordered, "Go to the Hall and get those records. Please, my friend." Lennier bowed to her, making the sign of the Triluminary, and left.

She had gazed after him, still stunned by the turn of events, some deep part of her knowing he would find nothing. It became clear to her that there was a distinct possibility she would not return, that she would remain on Minbar, subject to the will of the elders, and of Callenn. Returning to her room, she decided she must be prepared if this was to be her fate. Two things were needed; a message to the past, and a message for the future.

He had returned empty-handed, and together they faced the questioning of her clan elders. It began calmly enough, she told her story, of the two trips into the Gallery. Then Lennier spoke, confirming all she said except for the words of Dukhat. Her final presentation of her case echoed in the still chamber, sounding weak and increasingly desperate. When she was done, the elders had them led outside to await the final judgment.

They sat in silence, avoiding each other's eyes. It didn't take long, and Delenn knew this to be a bad omen. Returning to the main chamber, she took her position in the center of her clan, as they stood in a circle around her, feeling like a prisoner in the dock, awaiting word of her sentence.

"We have considered the Dreaming in all its aspects, and we find that your taking this human as mate was the result of your guilt, and a means of atonement, rather than the calling of your heart. You will stay here, among your clan, on Minbar, and never return to Babylon Five. You may contact the man Sheridan, to inform him of this, or not, as you wish. But you must never contemplate joining with him. This is the decision of your clan." As the others in the room muttered their approval, he continued, "The words you say you heard from Dukhat were surely meant metaphorically, rather than literally." He stepped towards Delenn, almost scorched by the fiery pain on her face. "It is the best thing for you. You cannot join with someone for such a reason. It would be unfair to you both." He raised one hand, and indicated the temple around them. "You are a person of intelligence and wisdom. Your knowledge and experience will serve us well, and you will be able to serve our people here as well as you did there." Seeing she was about to protest, he went on, "Remember. If you expect others to submit to your authority, you must submit to those placed in authority over you. I know you want to serve, and we will welcome your advice and counsel."

Lennier spoke to her then, trying to make her see his position. "It is the right thing. You are respected and valued, here at home. All your plans, those ideas you hold dear, can still be accomplished. I will remain by your side, to help you implement them." He smiled at her, trying to comfort her with his words, and his presence.

_They are pleased by this outcome_, she thought dispassionately, feeling oddly disconnected from everyone in the room, as if she was encased in glass. _And_ _Lennier...__Lennier__ wanted this to happen._ Then, like the light of the sun blazing over the horizon, the realization struck her. He must have heard Dukhat's words; and told Callenn. They had agreed on this interpretation of the Dreaming. Lennier had lied to save her the disgrace of joining with an off-worlder. He wanted her to stay, and he wanted to stay with her. 'Always', he had said when they left, and that is what he had arranged. Looking at Callenn's face, and the faces in the group around her; her family, her clan, those closest to her by blood and descent; she realized they were all pleased and happy for her. They had spared her a horrible fate. Hysterical laughter boiled up in her, and she barely kept it inside. Marcus had told her once the humans had a saying- 'You always hurt the ones you love.' They loved her, and they had hurt her more than they would ever know.

"I'm afraid that will not be possible."

The voice echoed in the room, deep and resonant. Everyone turned towards the entryway, and the whisper ran around the circle. _Sal'ierae ra'Valir_, went the refrain, _the Sisters of Valeria are here!_

"Can we be of service, Sal'ier?" asked Callenn, polite, if confused. "What is not possible?"

The three women approached Delenn. Two stood to either side of her, and the third, her blood red robe falling in folds to the floor, faced Lennier, her face hidden by the deep hood that shrouded her face. "I spoke to you, young one. We allow no males in our temple, and so you will not be able to continue your service."

Lennier looked at Delenn, questions raging in his eyes. She smiled at him slightly, lips white and eyes as cold and opaque as window glass rimed with frost. When she spoke, she spoke to Callenn. "I anticipated your decision. I deplore it, and although I am bound by my word to obey, it will be the last time. I will renounce my clan allegiance, and pledge myself to Valeria." She stood unwavering in front of him, a pillar of fire and icy rage.

"You do not need to do this!" said Callenn, veering between astonishment and disappointment.

"I will not submit to your authority again." Her voice was flat with finality.

Then she turned to her former aide, and her former friend. He stood, defiant, unrepentant, but fear pooled behind his eyes.

"Su'a shah-t ri, Lennier." She then bowed to each of the three women, and keeping her place between the two flanking her, she followed the leader of the Sisters out the door, head held high. This chapter in her life was now closed. She was beginning the next chapter on her own terms.

Lennier did not move as the others in Delenn's clan shuffled out of the chamber. _Su'a shah-t ri_, she had told him. _You are dead to me_.


	2. News from Home

Colonel Susan Ivanova sat stolidly awaiting her appointed meeting time in an outer chamber of a large compound just outside Tuzanoor. Kicking her heels slightly against the cold stone pedestal holding up the visitor's bench, she wished again that it wasn't her job to impart this news to Delenn ra'Valir. But it was time for her usual visit to Minbar, and it was better for Delenn to hear it from a friend. At least she hoped Delenn would see it that way.

After her five year tour out on the Rim, and various other missions in deep space, she'd finally been assigned oversight of the Earth-Minbari border patrol, and once a year she came to the planet to make a report to the Grey Council. It was a formality really; there were no issues between Earth and Minbar. Both were members of the Interstellar Alliance, and there hadn't been open hostilities since the original Earth-Minbari war had ended so abruptly twenty-one years before. Relations had been frosty during the Shadow War, but after the Earth Civil War was resolved they had thawed again, and had become cordial after the formation of the Alliance.

Delenn had a great deal to do with that. Her public influence had been muted after her return to Minbar in 2260, but behind the scenes she remained a strong force for peace. Her reputation with the people had grown even more favorable during the Minbari Civil War. Afterwards, her position as informal advisor to the re-formed Grey Council and major supporter of the IA ensured she remained a formidable player in Minbari politics. The intervening years had shown only more evidence of her wisdom and humility, and although she never appeared in public and eschewed publicity, her work was known and revered on her homeworld and throughout the Alliance.

The meeting with Delenn was personal, outside her military duties. John had asked her to make this annual pilgrimage, long ago, and she couldn't refuse him. She could never refuse him anything, not after what he'd done, for all of them. Every year, on the anniversary of the battle at Coriana Six, she came to this chilly stone temple to meet with Delenn. They talked of politics and current events, future strategies and old friends. John's name was not mentioned as such. He was President Sheridan in their discussions. Until the last moments, when, after all other topics were exhausted, Delenn would finally ask, her voice level and calm, only a tightening of the muscles around her mouth, and her hands quietly gripping each other as they lay still on her lap, revealing the tension behind the question. "How is he?"

Susan was shaken from her reverie by Delenn's voice, repeating a twisted echo of her inner thoughts. Staring for a moment, her eyes unseeing, she felt she was surrounded by ghosts and dreams.

"I said, how are you? You look as if you are lost in a dream, my friend. Shall I come back when you awaken?" Delenn was leaning over her, somewhat concerned.

"I'm awake." Susan's voice was clipped. Now that Delenn was here, she really wished that she herself wasn't. Looking over the Minbari, in the dark red robes of the Sisterhood, Susan thought she hadn't changed much. Still petite, and slender, and possessed of a charm and strength that had captivated many, her friend's relieved smile lit up the dim room. Candles burned in various niches in the walls, casting dark shadows rather than light. Delenn had thrown back the deep hood of the robe, and it pooled behind her back like a waterfall of blood. Susan shook her head, as if to drive out the imagery. "I'm fine."

"No, that you are not. You are worried, and concerned about something, and reluctant to speak." Delenn sat beside Susan, taking the human's chilled hand between her own warm ones. "What has happened?"

Her voice was all sympathy and focussed completely on Susan, and Susan suddenly realized that Delenn knew. How, she couldn't imagine, but she knew.

"It's John," Susan said, her voice tripping on the name which was never spoken in this room, although his presence was there, had been there, every time she had come.

Delenn's hands imperceptibly tightened on Susan's. "Tell me."

"He's dying, Delenn. He was critically injured, in an accident on a shuttle returning to the station, and he doesn't seem to be getting any better. They called Stephen Franklin in from Earth, and he says the self-repairing mechanisms Lorien left behind are failing. Whatever the First One did, it's not working anymore." Susan's eyes filled with tears, her vision filled with her last sight of John, as he told her not to tell Delenn of his condition. He wasn't her superior officer any more, but her disobedience still had the sting of mutiny to it.

"I see." Delenn relaxed slightly, as if she'd been expecting worse. Then, as if to herself, she whispered, "barring injury or illness...no more than that." She straightened her already painfully erect body, and asked, almost shyly, "Did he say anything, ask you to say anything...to me?"

"He asked me not to tell you." Susan's voice was blunt. She'd argued with John over this, saying that Delenn deserved to know, even if she couldn't do anything about it.

"I see." Delenn repeated, but her eyes dimmed for a moment. "He has not forgiven me then."

"No!" Susan's exclamation echoed off the grey stone walls. "He speaks of you sometimes, and always with great fondness. I don't think he ever understood your decision, and I know he found it painful at the time, but he respected it."

"And you?" Delenn's hands were still gripping Susan's, painfully hard now, as she waited for an answer.

"It was difficult. The battle for Earth was upon us, and he needed you. We needed you. I didn't understand; hell, maybe I didn't want to understand. Marcus helped me see what a bind you were in...before he..."

"Before he himself was injured. Yes, his was a generous soul. He would have understood, and forgiven me." Delenn's voice was caustic and harsh with self-loathing.

"Marcus said everything he knew about forgiveness he learned from you," Susan blurted out. She looked at Delenn, meeting her gaze straight on. "Will you go to John now?"

"I..." Delenn seemed stunned at the thought. "If I break my word now, here at the end, it will negate the sacrifice I made...we made, all those years ago. My clan decreed that I was not to see him again, and I had already said I would accept their decision before I entered the Dreaming. And I did accept it. Ten years, Susan. If I go now, it will mean nothing, all those years." Her voice faltered. "All those years," she repeated, her voice fading into the gathering shadows.

"They meant you were not to go back to him and continue the rituals. That you couldn't be together, as a couple. Would they make an exception in these circumstances?" Susan was pleading now, and the words of excuse tumbled out. "You could try. Petition them or something. Maybe Satai Lennier could help...I'm to meet with him tomorrow. I could ask him."

"I do not speak with Lennier. I have not spoken to him since that day. You know that." There was no appeal to the finality of this declaration.

A cold wind blew through the chamber, and Susan felt it settle around her heart. She had hoped to bring the long separated couple together, one more time, before the end. John hadn't asked, and Delenn seemed to be against it, but Susan knew somewhere deep inside that it was right. "I'll ask him anyway. If your clan releases you from your vow, then the decision is yours. I'll wait, a while, with my ship in orbit. As long as I can." She stood, and looked down at Delenn. "You may have had no choice, all those years ago. But if I open this door, and you don't walk through it..." She shook her head, "It'll be your choice this time, and you'll have to live with it." Without saying good-bye, she strode out of the chamber, closing the door behind her with more force than she meant to.

It clanged shut, and the echoes built around Delenn, ringing in her ears. She was a prisoner of solitude, and it was far too late to escape. Still, there was Lorien's message from her dream; what if she were meant to go, to be with John as he passed beyond the Rim? She felt something stirring, deep inside, a desire that grew swiftly and threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to see him. Oh Valen, how she wanted to see him, one last time. Susan had freed something inside of her and it was unfolding rapidly, like a paper flower in water. Once it had opened into its true shape, it couldn't be folded back up into the tight ball from whence it had come. Standing, shaking from the force of her newly released emotions, she walked into the temple sanctum. She would have to appeal to the Sisterhood for temporary release from temple, if she was to walk among the stars once more.

Satai Lennier of the Grey Council was in the Council office in Tuzanoor, awaiting a messenger flying in from Yedor, when a knock sounded at his door. There was a scuffling noise, and sounds of protest, then the door flew open. His aide followed an Earthforce officer into the room, apologizing to him and trying to hold her back. Lennier smiled; no force that he knew of would stop Susan Ivanova from going where she wished, when she wished. He signalled to the aide, who immediately ceased speaking, bowed deeply, and left the room, though not without a hostile backwards glance.

"Satai Lennier," said Susan, bowing from the waist, but not taking her eyes off the Minbari. He looked exactly the same as when they'd first met, as far as she could tell. Minbari didn't age at the same rate as humans, lucky dogs. She cast a thought to her own greying hair, but shrugged mentally. Minbari also didn't judge people by appearances.

"Colonel Ivanova," replied Lennier, returning the bow. "What brings you here to speak with me? I was aware of your visit, but had received no request for a meeting."

"That's because there wasn't one," she answered bluntly. "Did your people get the communique I brought from the President?"

"We did, and are considering his suggestion. It is highly irregular, and not really our decision..."

"You'll certainly have to lean on the Sisters for permission, or dispensation, or whatever. But that's not why I'm here today."

"No?" He gestured towards a chair, and she sat down on the edge, leaning forward towards him, as he sat in a chair he pulled up close, facing her.

"I want the Grey Council to approve my taking Delenn back with me to Babylon Five. Now." She watched his face carefully, trying to read his reaction.

Emotions fled over his face quickly in succession; pain, guilt, and something like hope. Carefully he asked, "Did she ask you to speak with me?"

Susan hated to say it, but it seemed to be her day for bringing bad news. "No, it was my idea, and I'm pretty sure she didn't approve." Her voice shook a little as she went on, "What's not in the communique, Lennier...Maybe you know already, you must have your sources on the station." She plunged ahead, talking about it was like taking medicine, better done all at once. "John was injured, badly, a couple of weeks ago. He's dying, and that's why he's pushed forward asking her to run for President of the Alliance. He contacted the Council because it's polite, and it would be easier with your approval, and backing. None of us really know what the Sisterhood will think. They seem to have allowed her a great deal of leeway over the years."

Lennier sat back in his chair, and rubbed his temple with one hand. "This is unhappy news." He looked at the ceiling for a moment, as if lost in thought, "I am indeed sorry; it will be a great loss to the Alliance. All I had heard was that Sheridan did not wish to run for another term. This accident must have precipitated this decision. What did Delenn have to say?"

"I haven't told her about the Presidency, actually," Susan sounded surprised at this omission. "I guess I thought he could tell her himself. That is," she said darkly, "if we make it back in time." She cocked an eyebrow at Lennier. "Besides, she probably already knows all about that part. She's been running a behind the scenes cabinet of sorts for years."

"We are aware of her dealings with the Alliance, and with the Rangers. She remains a force in the universe from within the cloistered walls of her temple. And a force for good."

Lennier spoke with sincere admiration, and Susan approved. Whatever had happened between the two of them, and she'd bet her ship that it had something to do with Delenn's staying on Minbar all those years ago, Lennier didn't let it color his views. "I don't have much time. Will the Council try to prevent her going? Let them take their time about the Presidency-a campaign and a vote will take time to put together in any case. I don't know how long John has." Her tone was somber. "If the Sisterhood approves, will you?"

"I will speak to the Council. They will not stand in her way. I think you have more to worry about with the Sisters. They seldom travel off-planet..." Lennier stopped, as Susan rose.

"If Delenn wants to go, I doubt the entire Sisterhood could stop her for long. I only hope she has the courage to try." She put one hand to her chest and bowed to the still seated Lennier.

Lennier rose and returned the bow. "I will send a courier to let you know the decision of the Council regarding supporting Delenn if she decides to run for the Presidency of the Alliance. I do not think it will take long; they are aware of her reputation in other worlds, as well as among our own people. Again, I think the Sisterhood may prove a problem. They have Sisters working among the people on Minbar and a few on our colonies now, but this would be quite different. I suppose it could be managed, but it is up to them."

Susan nodded briskly and left with only a sharp glance at the aide who now held the door open for her, head down in respect. Lennier called the aide inside, and gave him brief but complete instructions. Returning to the seat behind the desk, he looked at the doorway from whence Susan had departed. _'Courage?'_ he thought to himself. _'If courage is all it takes, Delenn will be back at the station before I even address the Council.'_ He turned his thoughts away from the idea of a world without Delenn in it. He'd had ten years to grow accustomed to that life; and he knew it was one he had brought completely upon himself.


	3. The Way Back

Delenn had left her temple that afternoon, after a lively and contentious debate over a comlink with the leaders of the Sisterhood who were located at various temples across Minbar. She had gained status in the intervening years since her initiation, but it was outside the traditional hierarchy. When she had requested an audience with the the leaders of the five orders of Valeria, it had been arranged within hours, even though these were busy, powerful women. When one of the five revealed Susan's other mission, sounding out the Council on their opinion of her running for the Presidency of the Alliance, she managed to keep her face completely composed.

"That is not the primary reason for my request," she said, trying to think out the ramifications of what she had just learned. She knew John must be behind this extraordinary idea, and wondered how long he had been considering it. Part of her shrank at the thought of a public role again, but if she could use it to obtain her immediate goal, so be it. "It is an interesting proposition, but I am happy serving my people and the peoples of the Alliance here. If you, my superiors, decide it would be a good idea, then, well, I will make the attempt. Right now," she said, trying to gauge the responses from the split comscreen, "I need to leave immediately if I am to make it back, " she stuttered on the next word. She'd almost said 'home' which would not have gone over well. "To the station in time. I have worked, separate, yet in parallel, with President Sheridan for years now. Our goals, and that of the Sisterhood, are the same. Peace, prosperity, freedom...for all our peoples. The Alliance has been the best way to reach these goals. You have approved my actions, now I ask that you grant me this favor."

She waited in silence, wondering if they knew she meant to go in any case. Probably they did. When she had been initiated into the secrets of the Sisters, one thing that had amazed her was the extent of their knowledge of, and their activity in, the outside world. There was an order devoted to working in temples and schools and villages; that she had known. But the cloistered Sisters were active in research and scholarship, in government and policy, all behind the scenes. This work had expanded dramatically once the Grey Council had been disbanded, and it had grown even more during the Civil War. The Sisters had private, and confidential, access to the re-formed Grey Council, which they had not had in the past. It had proven illuminating, and fortuitous. She had been able to continue much of her work, outreach to other races, working with the Rangers, consultation with the Council; and her knowledge and experience had proven useful as Callenn had predicted, all those years ago.

"It is in our interests that you do this thing, our Sister. Go with Valen, and may you find the reunion in this world all you wish. We are still considering the other, but it is likely that we will approve a temporary change in your status, allowing you to compete for the position. You would still be bound by your vows, but able to make others. When those vows conflict, we would leave it to your conscience."

Delenn had made the required obeisance before the screen, trying to keep the mix of jubilation and fear from her expression. Now she could go without the stain of breaking her oath of obedience. Whether she wanted to, and whether it was wise, that was another matter. As the screen darkened, she went with all haste to her spartan room, packed a carryall, and requested transport to the space port.

"There is a shuttle from the surface requesting permission to dock, Ma'am." The young ensign's voice was excited. There hadn't been much going on aboard ship for the last few days. Colonel Ivanova kept them hopping with drills and snap inspections, but everyone was beginning to wonder when they would leave and head back into space. Their next stop was going to be the Babylon station, home of the IA for ten years now, and Phillip was looking forward to finally seeing the place. He'd heard so many tales of the days of the wars, now mostly behind them, and the early days of the Alliance.

"Well, who is it, Ensign? I don't like surprise guests." Ivanova snapped back. Her temper had been uncertain ever since she'd come back aboard. She'd heard nothing from Delenn or the Sisters; only a short note from Lennier that simply said, 'Yes to all.'

The young man queried the ship, and hearing the answer through the earpiece, reported back, "They simply say they are carrying an old friend. Of yours, Ma'am." He wondered a little at the Colonel's response. She closed her eyes, and her lips moved, as if in prayer. When she opened them and looked at him, she smiled broadly at him. It was highly unsettling, and he wondered if he'd covered up that stain on his uniform jacket as well as he'd thought.

"Ensign, I want you to meet the shuttle at the dock. Bring the passenger to my quarters. I'll have the quartermaster set up something for her later." She looked at him standing there, mouth open, and said, "I'll get someone up here to cover your station, don't worry. Now, scoot, before I have to court-martial you for disobeying a direct order." She turned to her second, and said, "I've got to make a call, Lieutenant Commander. Get someone to cover the com, and get ready to make space. I'll want to leave within the hour."

"Colonel, who is coming aboard?" asked Lt. Commander Marian Harris, standing to attention as Susan prepared to leave the bridge.

"Like the ensign said, an old friend. Set a course for the station, and prepare to leave on my order!" She left hurriedly, leaving the crew to their work.

Coming around the corner at a dead run, worried he was late to greet the Colonel's guest, Phillip was brought up short when he saw the shuttle already backing out of the dock. He looked quickly around the small room that served as a departure area and saw no one for a moment. Cursing under his breath, he was wondering if he should start searching the hallway, when he saw a small figure staring out the docking bay into space. It was a woman, or seemed to be, clad head to toe in a white hooded robe. The robe was edged in dark red, and she carried a small bag the same color. Hurrying over to her, he stopped and stood to attention. Giving a short salute, he said, "Colonel Ivanova sent me to escort you to her quarters. I'm Ensign Phillip Sheridan."

Delenn sucked in her breath at the sound of that name, and inclined her head in acknowledgment of his greeting. "I am Delenn ra'Valir, Ensign. Thank you for your guidance. It is a large ship, and I would hate to keep the Colonel waiting while I searched for her."

Phillip smiled at that, and said, "No one keeps the Colonel waiting, not more than once." Then his jaw dropped, and he spluttered, "Delenn? THE Delenn? Ma'am, it's an honor!"

Smiling at the boy's enthusiasm and briefly blinded by his familiar smile, Delenn said, "I am Delenn, but I do not believe I am the only one, so I cannot be certain I am the one of which you speak."

She pushed back her hood, the better to study the young man; there was a resemblance, true, but it was subtle. The broad shoulders and light hair were the same, but the eyes were a dark brown, and the mouth was different.

"It has to be you! You have hair!" He came to himself, realizing he was staring, and extending his hand, saying, "May I take your bag, ma'am? I will take you straight to the Colonel." After taking possession of the small bag, he gestured in the direction they needed to go, and started off, slightly ahead of Delenn. "My Uncle John, that is, the President, speaks of you often. He's told me so many stories about the wars and the Rangers and the other ambassadors and the station..."

Delenn looked at him with amusement. She hoped John had not made a legend out of her. "You must be one of Elizabeth's children then? John..." She was proud that she could speak his name without hesitation. "He spoke often of your mother."

"That's right. Mom's still on Proxima, as is my brother. My father died during Clark's occupation, just before the War." His voice was suddenly somber. "My father worked for Clark's side. He was killed during the liberation. That's why I have my mother's name."

"I am sorry. It is hard to lose a parent, especially during a period of estrangement." They walked on in silence for a moment, but Phillip was unable to keep quiet, his curiosity overcoming his training.

"Are you coming with us to the station then? I've never been there, and I'm looking forward to seeing all the places Uncle John described in his letters and during his visits." A thought suddenly struck him. "You're going to see the President, aren't you? Are the rumours true then? Is he ill?" He looked stricken. "They should have told me, told my mother...this isn't fair!"

Delenn laid one hand on his arm, stopping him in the corridor. "I am not sure of the whole situation, and why it might be wise to keep his condition secret. I will speak with Colonel Ivanova, and ask her what you can be told. It is not easy being related to someone in high position. John's life is not his own. I know he would want you, and Elizabeth, to know, unless there is some very good reason why you should not."

Phillip swallowed hard, and started walking again. "Thank you. It is hard. There were a lot of hard feelings after the war, even on Proxima. Not everyone agreed with what Uncle John did, or with what my father did. We were kind of caught in the middle."

"That is unfortunate. We had a civil war on Minbar not long after yours. They are terrible things, tearing family, clan, and caste apart." She looked at the door in front of which they had stopped. "Is this it, then?" Phillip nodded, and she said, "Perhaps you could announce that we are here?" He grinned at her, and suddenly the resemblance was startling. Then he touched a recessed panel on one side of the door.

"Come," a voice called from inside. Phillip followed Delenn into the room, set her bag down inside the door, and saluted.

Susan said, "You can leave that. Her quarters aren't ready yet. Back to the bridge, and relieve your substitute! You're on duty for eight more hours yet." After the door had closed behind the young man, she grinned at Delenn. "Glad you could make it. What do you think of the next generation?"

"He seems a competent and good-mannered young man. All that I would expect." Delenn looked around the room and said, "I still can't believe I'm here." She suddenly felt overwhelmed, and it must have shown on her face, as Susan hastened to offer her a chair.

"I can make some tea, if you like. You never cultivated a taste for coffee, did you?" Susan went to the small kitchen area and set a kettle on the warmer. Coming back in to the connected living area, she sat down on the couch opposite Delenn's chair. "I just got off the com with the station. He's the same, hanging in there. I could hardly keep from announcing your visit, though." At Delenn's look of alarm, Susan went on, "Not for a parade! I just think we ought to warn the poor man. The shock might be harmful."

"Are you certain this is wise, Susan?" Delenn's voice quavered a bit on the question. "Will he even want to see me?"

"He will. He'd never ask it of you to come, or of me to bring you, but he wants it. I can see it in his eyes, whenever he mentions your name. He couldn't even say your name for a while after you didn't come back. Until your message arrived, he kept an eye on every transport from Minbar. I had to hold Marcus back physically from going to retrieve you. Then the package arrived."

"Yes, the Sisters allowed me to contact him. I sent a data crystal explaining it the best I could, and the engagement ring he had given me. It was difficult to find the words." She fell silent, thinking of another recorded message of love and good-bye. When the kettle alarm went off, they both jumped.

Susan went to busy herself preparing the tea. "Earth grade, I'm afraid. I don't carry the Minbari varieties on board ship. John still drinks your stuff; I think he likes it." Carrying two cups back into the living area, she said, "I never knew you returned the ring. I guess that's the tradition, but it must have hurt."

"I was not without it long." Delenn reached into the neck of her under-robe, and pulled out a white gold ring with a small diamond, suspended on a long silver chain. "He sent it back to me." Holding it in the palm of her hand, she said, "I cannot wear it as a symbol of joining of course, but I am never without it." Closing her hand on it for a moment, as if to make a wish, she then tucked it back inside the neck of her dress where it lay, as it always did, over her heart. Picking up her cup of tea, she asked casually, "Just how fast can this ship travel?"


	4. Reunited

Susan arranged for them to enter the station late at night, with a minimal security escort. Colonel Lochley had been happy to oblige, not wishing to deal with a possible riot of sight-seers. Delenn thought they were both over-reacting. She had been out of the public eye for ten years now; there was surely no one left who even remembered her.

John was being treated in the Presidential quarters rather than MedLab. It was more private, easy to keep secure, and he could work when he felt up to it, which wasn't often. Delenn was hurried along corridors that were both familiar and not. Occasionally she would recognize a door, or a public area, or a conference room, but they passed too quickly. She hardly had time to catch her breath before they reached the ambassadorial sector. A part of it had been re-structured to be the main headquarters of the Alliance.

Now they were allowed to walk slowly. There were no unauthorized personnel in this area; in fact there was no one at all in the corridors beside security people. Susan was still with her; Colonel Lochley, after a brief introduction and greeting, had returned to her work. They had four guards; the uniforms were the same, which she thought was odd. You would think that EarthForce would change styles once in ten years. And the humans thought her people clung to tradition!

They were at his door. Susan squeezed her arm, and asked, "Are you ready?" She nodded, and Susan said, "You stay back by the door. I want to let him know you're here before he sees you."

"Susan, it is late. Could this not wait until the morning?" Delenn found herself shaking, and it wasn't just the cold hallway.

Ivanova looked at her compassionately. "He doesn't sleep much at this point. Something about the drugs they have him on; supposedly he gets rest even though he doesn't sleep. Besides, there may not be much time."

"All right." Delenn stood back to let Susan through the door, then followed her in, sticking to the shadows along the wall by the door.

"Hey John." Susan came in, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "How are you doing?"

Delenn closed her eyes, hoping that she was doing the right thing.

"How do you think I'm doing? At least I got them to let me out of bed today. I told them I'm dying, not disabled. I can still sit up, and move around, if I go slow." There were some noises, like furniture being moved, and she stopped breathing for a moment. "Did you get that message to Minbar? What was their response?"

"I spoke to Lennier directly. He says yes. The Council says yes. The Sisterhood will say yes, or so Delenn told me."

"You saw her then." His voice was low, and spiked with sadness.

"I see her at this time every year. You're the one that made me promise to do it! What? Is your mind going now?"

"How is she?"

How strange, Delenn thought. I ask the same thing, every year, in exactly the same way. I wonder if he knows that.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Susan stood up, and waved at Delenn to come forward. "I got tired of playing go between for Heloise and Abelard, so I stormed the nunnery and brought her back with me."

Delenn moved into the living areas, and blinked at the bright lights. She felt unaccountably shy, and it reminded her of walking into the council chamber, here on the station, the first time she'd appeared after her transformation. Reaching up, as if in a dream, she pulled back her hood, and now, as then, the first thing she saw was John Sheridan, staring at her, open-mouthed in wonder.

He looked terribly tired, was her first thought, and thin. It reminded her of how he'd overextended himself in the beginning days and weeks of the Shadow war. Moving closer, she noted there was an immobilocast over his ribs, just showing under his robe, and when he struggled to his feet to greet her, he had to use a cane to stand. At the sight her heart clenched tightly, and she said, "Don't get up, please."

He was standing already, leaning heavily on the cane, and she slowly came towards him, stopping just in front of him, drinking in the sight of him.

With his free hand, he reached out, and touched her face, just brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "Are you really here?"

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded instead, and leaned lightly into his hand as he cupped her face in his palm.

Her lashes brushed his palm like the feathers of a small bird, and he moved his hand into the softness of the hair at the back of her neck. He tugged her closer, and sighed as she moved into the circle of his arm, resting her head against his chest. Leaning heavily on the cane, he held her as tightly as he could with one arm.

She could have stayed in that position for hours, if not for the rest of her life, but she could feel the strain in his arms, and the tension building in his legs. She looked up to say, "Please,sit down, John. I'm not going anywhere."

Susan thought this seemed like an opportune time to speak up, that is, if she could get the words past that lump in her throat. "I had them deliver your luggage, such as it is. It's just outside the door. Colonel Lochley hasn't found quarters for you yet, so I guess you're bunking here tonight. I'll warn you; he snores."

Delenn looked up from settling John onto the couch, and said smoothly, "I know." Going over to Susan, she embraced her lightly, and said, "Thank you for this. Will we see you tomorrow?"

"I've promised the crew shore leave. Or is it station leave? In any case, we'll be here a little while, a week maybe. The short answer is 'yes'." She watched in amusement as Delenn's eyes wandered back over to the couch. "I'll just be going then."

For a moment neither John nor Delenn replied, their eyes being locked on each other again. Susan idly wondered if either would notice if she set off a nuclear device in the room. Then, as Delenn settled down next to him on the couch, John came to himself, and called absently towards the door, "Good night, Susan, and thanks again."

She let herself out.

"Are you comfortable? Would you like me to help you into bed?" Delenn sat beside him on the couch, close, but not too close for fear of hurting him.

He grinned at her, then grimaced as she accidentally jostled him. "Don't make me an offer like that when I can't respond properly. It's not fair."

She blushed at the implication but said nothing. Shifting carefully away from him, she took careful inventory of his injuries. There were broken ribs obviously, and from his labored breathing, some underlying problem in the lungs. His left leg was also in a cast, from mid-thigh to below the knee. Susan had refused to talk much about it, saying she was not a doctor, and that she could see for herself soon enough.

"Would like a list of what's wrong? Or there's a digital medical chart hanging on the end of the bed; it makes for light night-time reading." John thought she looked tired, and wondered if she'd slept at all on the long trip from Minbar.

"I do not think I could read the medical language. Why don't you tell me?" She touched the cast on his leg gently, "What happened?"

"An accident on the shuttle. Not much of one, but I was out of my seat at the time, and it threw me around a little. Broke the leg, in two places. Busted a few ribs, punctured both lungs. The problem isn't the injuries so much, but my body's reaction to them. Apparently I'm not healing. At all. The bones won't knit, the ribs won't grow back, no matter how many regen packs they pile in there. The main problem is my lungs. They re-inflated them, so I can breathe, but instead of healing there's scar tissue piling up in there. Every time they try to remove it, it comes back worse than before. Since even the simple bone fracture isn't healing they don't dare try a transplant. Eventually my lungs will fill up with scar tissue and I won't be able to breathe any more." He spoke matter-of-factly, as if reading a dry and boring status report.

She shivered, and said, "And there is nothing else they can do?"

He shifted on the couch, trying to find a position closer to her. She adjusted, fitting herself against him in a pleasantly supportive fashion. "They can put me on machines that'll breathe for me. I'm still evaluating that option."

Noticing the grim tone in his voice, and trying to keep her own level, she asked, "If you do not choose that option?"

He looked at her and said intently. "I'll die. But I've done that before. Did you come back to give me something to live for?"

"Not as such. I came because I finally could, and because you were ill and I wanted to see you again..." Her voice faltered, "I'm so sorry I couldn't come back, all those years ago. I wanted to, very much."

"I know." He took her hand in his, and pressed it slightly. "I understand. I won't say I did at first, but later, after Neroon came to the station, and after you started writing me."

"Neroon..." Her voice faded, then grew stronger. "I still miss him. I contacted him just after I had been accepted into the Sisterhood. Before I went for training, he came to tell me that he had been appointed Anla'Shok Na by what remained of the Grey Council."

"I had just received your message, and my ring back, when he arrived at the station. I wasn't very polite to him."

She laughed, "I can imagine. Still, he brought you good news, did he not?"

Shaking his head in remembered amazement, "I don't know how you did it. When he told me I would retain command of the Rangers through the liberation of Earth, and that he would support my use of them as a peace-keeping force for the Alliance afterwards...my jaw hit the floor. He wouldn't confirm you were behind it, just said that he trusted you, 'after a fashion'."

"He also had to admit to me that the Rangers were not going to accept him without my approval. They wanted me to remain as Entil'zha, their spiritual leader, while Neroon co-ordinated training and shared command with you. That was my first issue with the leadership of the Sisters. A Sister as Entil'zha? Unheard of in our history. Untraditional." She smiled, down playing the severity of the battle that had ensued. Then she reached out and touched a scar on his cheek, hidden by the neat beard he cultivated. "I did not hear about your incarceration until after you were freed. During my training and before my initiation into the Sisterhood, I was not allowed outside contact. A Ranger brought me the news of your escape, and the later battles."

"It wasn't that bad. I kept seeing you during the interrogations, and it kept me going. Even though I knew I likely wouldn't see you again. I sent a message to you when I got back, just in case you had found a way around the box you were in." He sighed deeply, then began to cough. She held him as the spasms racked his body, and when they had eased, she said, "I never got it. I imagine we were at war by then. It was horrible. The Sisters held our people together..."

"You mean you did," he interjected.

"I and others. The affair was settled at the StarFire Wheel. I was ill for a long time after that. But it worked, Neroon's and my plan to unite our people. Just not the way I had foreseen."

She rested her head against his shoulder, and he began stroking her hair. "I heard about it much later. Were you prepared to die?"

"To save my world? Of course. Were you, when you attempted to use the Agammemnon as a battering ram?" At his look of surprise, she said, "I saw the footage from one of the White Stars involved in the battle. We were both ready, and had been, from before the Shadow War to this very day. It is part of who we are."

She noticed his eyelids were drooping, and when a face-splitting yawn broke out, she stood up briskly. "Time for bed."

He smiled slowly, then grimaced, and pointed to his leg. "I could use some assistance."

Putting one hand under his elbow, she lifted him up swiftly, and put her arm around his waist for support. He put his other arm around her shoulder and they slowly made their way to the bedroom. When she got there, she was surprised to see that the bed was tilted, though not at the extreme angle favored by her people.

He noticed, and said, "They say it helps with my breathing." At her sideways glance, he confessed, "I've kept it that way since you left. I got kind of used to it on the White Stars."

She helped him into the bed, and removed his robe, hanging it on a hook on the back of the door to the bathroom. Then she turned to leave, and he caught at her hand, "Stay with me tonight?"

"Tonight, and from now on," she promised, gripping his hand tightly, thinking it was far more likely that he would be leaving her, and too soon. "But I would like to get my bag from outside the door where Susan had it left."

"Oh," he said. "I'll just wait here then." He leaned back against the pillows, which were large puffy affairs, not the small triangles favored by the Minbari, and whistled softly as she removed her enveloping outer robe.

She shook her head, laughing at his boyish enthusiasm, then sobered. "John, I am still bound by my vows. You know that, don't you?"

"And I'm bound by my bandages, and my casts, and my general inability to move about on my own." He patted the side of the bed. "I'm not going to attack you in the night. I doubt I'm capable of it. I just want you as close to me as I can get. I'm still pinching myself to make sure this is no dream."

"It is not you that I am worried about."

Her voice floated back to him as she went to the door. He couldn't stop smiling, regardless of the overall seriousness of the situation. He heard the door swoosh open, a few words spoken to the security guards, and then it closed. She came back carrying a small bag that looked as if it might hold one change of clothes. "Not planning a long stay?" He gestured to the bag.

"I was in a hurry. Besides we have few possessions in temple, and share most of those. Little remains of my ambassadorial wardrobe, a brooch, some shoes." She was rummaging around in the bag, pulling out a simple sleeping robe, and a hair brush. "You have no idea how hard these are to come by on Minbar. I asked Susan to send me this one a couple of years ago." Shaking out the robe, she headed for the small bathroom.

"I might not sleep much," he called to her, watching the shadows play on the frosted glass of the door. "They have me on this medication; it's supposed to accelerate healing, but it also tends to concentrate sleep cycles. You can sleep for one hour and it's the same as if you'd slept for eight. I could have used this stuff years ago. It makes for long nights, though."

She emerged from the bath, still brushing out her hair. Her robe was made of some soft white material that clung to her body and he could see...well, everything. Laying the brush down on the table by the bed, she sat on the edge of the mattress, while he watched helplessly wondering where this was going. She leaned over him to adjust the blanket up around his bare chest, and as she did, her robe fell open at the throat and he caught sight of a fine silver chain. He couldn't recall her ever wearing a necklace.

"What's that?" he said, reaching up and pulling at the chain. As it slid through his fingers, the ring on the end fell into his hand.

"I cannot wear it as you meant me to," she said softly. "But I am never without it."

He pulled gently on the chain, then when she didn't move, tried to sit up, falling back in frustration. "Delenn, I can't reach you."

"Then I shall come to you," she said finally, and she bent down and touched her lips to his.

It was a light touch at first, barely a whisper of a kiss, and yet it burned like fire. He reached up and ran his hands through her hair, pulling her closer, closer. Just before their lips met again, he heard her say, the words spilling out and healing the wounds she could not see, and that he would not reveal.

"I will never leave you again."


	5. The End of the Beginning

It was the middle of the night when it occurred to him. He was lying on his back, with the warm body of his lover pressed up against him. Lover was the right word, although they had never made physical love, and it was beginning to look as if they never would. The love was real, no matter how it was expressed.

The rhythm of her breathing changed, and he knew she was awake. "Hey," he said tenderly. "Did I wake you?"

"No," she replied, moving her hand from his chest up to his neck where it rested, her fingertips on his pulse. "I had no dreams," she said absently, as if this was a pleasant surprise.

"Is that unusual?" he asked, wondering what she dreamed when she did.

"It is wonderful. My dreams are seldom pleasant or restful." She turned towards him. "If my dreams were more like this current reality, I would never wish to wake."

"I just had a thought. Well, a couple of thoughts. Actually I've done nothing but think most of the night." He laughed hollowly. "Resting without sleeping is strange."

"What were your thoughts?"

"I was thinking about what you said about your vows. Are you breaking any by being here, and by here, I don't mean just on the station, but with me?"

She sat up for a moment and looked back at him. "My clan asked me not to proceed with any rituals of joining. We have not and will not. They did also ask me not to return to you, but I have obligations to the Sisterhood as well. They wish me to pursue the Presidency of the Alliance. The Sisterhood also told me that when my vows conflicted, they would trust my conscience in choosing which to follow. I have earned that right by many years of obedience and service, and I cherish it. I would not abuse it."

"I'm not suggesting you are!" he protested. "I just don't want you to have to choose between staying with me, and staying true to who you are."

This time she laughed, a short, shallow laugh. "I don't know who I am, in any case. But I am breaking no vows. My conscience is clear, at least in this case."

"Good." He considered her for a moment. "Your letters were very useful, by the way. Your advice helped settle many a conflict among Alliance members in the beginning. Once they started consulting you directly, it went even more smoothly."

"It was the only way I could help, besides working to ensure Minbar's support of the Alliance. And it was a way to connect with you, without breaking my word to my clan." She looked at him solemnly, but he could see a gleam of interest in her eyes. "When did you realize the letters were from me?"

"Right away." At her look of disbelief, he said, "I mean, they came from Minbar, via Ranger Express, and were signed 'A Friend of the Alliance'! Besides, I'd recognize your diplomatic turn of phrase anywhere."

"And here I thought I was being subtle and carefully anonymous. I'll have to work on that." She looked chagrined, and he patted her thoughtfully on the back.

"You will, especially if you're going to be President of this misbegotten organization."

She cocked her head and asked him. "What put that idea in your head exactly? A cloistered Sister of Valeria, attempting to be elected President of the Alliance?"

"You should have been running it from the beginning. It was your idea, and your hard work getting a foundation for it laid down here on the station. I just implemented what we'd discussed."

"You contributed a good deal. And they never would have come together under my leadership solely. I always thought you would be the ideal President."

"And you'll be the ideal next President. I'm only glad the Sisterhood and the Grey Council agree with me. Susan talked with Lennier directly; I gather he had a good deal to do with their swift approval."

"Yes."

Her voice had turned cold and hard, and for a moment he didn't recognize it. "Is something wrong?"

"No." She smiled, with a little difficulty, then said, looking around her. "It is strange being back here after so long away. It seems a lifetime ago that I first came here. Jeffrey Sinclair was Commander then, and for a while, I was the only ambassador here. Then Londo and G'Kar came, and finally Kosh."

"That's right! That was the other thing I thought of!" He struggled to a sitting position, clutching his ribs with one hand. "Ouch! I can't get used to this."

She helped him up and piled pillows behind him to support his back. His breathing was becoming labored, even from such a small effort, and for a moment her blood ran cold. It was so easy to forget why she had come, why she was here. "Would you like me to call someone?" she asked, her voice strained and worried.

"No," he puffed, "Just give me a minute. It passes if I slow down a bit." His breathing eased over the next few seconds, and she relaxed slightly. "Now, where was I?"

"You had a thought, that is, another thought," She prompted him helpfully, keeping one hand on his chest, as it seemed to calm him to be in contact with her.

He pressed his hand over hers, thanking her without words. "I wanted to tell you I heard from Kosh after you left, about a year after you left." At her look of astonishment, he smiled. "It was the Brakiri Day of the Dead. He sent a message via a friend of Elizabeth's."

"Your sister Elizabeth?" she asked, confused.

"Elizabeth Lochley, I mean," he said. "She saw something, or someone, during the festival, and passed that person a message for me from Kosh. 'When the long night comes, return to the end of the beginning.' I've thought about that for years now, and I just realized, I've been referring to the time I've been on this drug as the long night! Do you suppose that's what he meant?"

She had another thought, and not a pleasant one. _The long night is the Centauri term for death._ Shaking her head, she answered, "I don't know. What does the rest mean? Where or when is the end of the beginning?"

"I think he meant Coriana Six. Remember when we came back, after the First Ones left for the Rim, and you said it was the beginning of a new age? That battle was the end of the beginning of that age. What do you think?" He looked at her expectantly, like a child who has solved a puzzle and is awaiting his deserved praise.

"I suppose that could be it. It's an interesting thought, but why does it matter?" She had gotten up as they talked, and was shaking out her outer robe, which she had folded neatly on the chest at the end of the bed.

"Our thoughts always matter; they form the universe."

Delenn looked at him in surprise, and he indicated a book on the table by his side of the bed. "I've been reading the Book of G'Kar; lots of good stuff in there."

She nodded, saying a silent prayer for her dead friend, and continued getting things prepared for the day. "Are you ready for some breakfast then? Is there anything in the kitchen, or should I call out and get something delivered?"

"Delenn," he patted the bed, indicating she should sit next to him. Once she had come over and sat patiently, her hands folded in her lap, he went on, his tone deadly serious. "I am going to die, perhaps soon. I think Kosh wanted me to go to Coriana Six when my time came."

She paled, and said faintly, "That's what he meant then."

"Who?" he asked, wondering what other cryptic Vorlon messages he might have to interpret.

"Lorien." She blinked rapidly, and he realized her eyes were filled with tears. "About two weeks ago..."

"About when the accident happened."

"Yes. I had a dream, and Lorien spoke words I never heard him say when he walked among us."

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Do not let him go alone.'" She smiled sadly, "I suppose that is why I am here. So you do not have to go alone."

He embraced her gently, and she wept, and so did he, a little. They mourned both what would be, and what could have been. He was so glad she had come, and yet part of him wished she didn't have to witness this. Perhaps it would have been easier if she had stayed behind on Minbar, and just received word of his passing afterwards. He hated to put her through it, and yet he couldn't force himself to ask her to leave.

Then she sat up and wiped away her tears, saying with determination, "How are we going to get hold of a ship?"

Colonel Ivanova whistled a bit as she approached the corridor outside the Presidential suite of rooms. She ran smack into a line of humans and aliens, ambassadors and medical personnel, with a few security guards keeping them quiet, and one at the door to John's personal quarters. "What's going on?" she asked as she came up to the guard.

"No one's opening the door. The President has people here for meetings, medicos wanting to give him his daily check-up, couriers here with messages. We don't know what to do, Colonel. He says he wants to be left alone." The guard was sweating; the crowd looked unhappy and unlikely to stay passive.

"Alone!" Susan snorted, "That's what you think!" She jammed her thumb on the door chime, and when a female voice answered, "Yes?", those in line stared open-mouthed. The whispering started immediately: who was in there with President Sheridan? Some thought it must be a doctor or other medical person, but the folk from MedLab who were in line put rest to that idea.

"Open up in there! You can't hide out all day!" Susan roared into the com. The door swooshed open; no one was visible, but Susan ducked in, saying to the guard, "Clear 'em all out. Tell them it's an old Earth holiday, and there'll be no meetings today!"

"An old Earth holiday?" said John, sitting precariously on a stool at the kitchen bar, his leg jutting out to one side.

Delenn fussed at Susan, "He will not stay in bed, or sit anywhere where he can be made comfortable! He insists he wants to watch me cook; but I am only opening packages. He has almost no fresh food; do you people ever make him eat?"

"I do not live here, Delenn. Take it up with his aides, or station staff, not me." She sniffed the air appreciatively, "What is for breakfast anyway?"

She only got a glare from the Minbari for her trouble. Taking the stool next to John, she picked up an orange from a bowl of fruit on the counter and began to peel it. "You two are acting like an old married couple already! You haven't seen each other for ten years, I expected something of a getting-reacquainted period."

John was watching Delenn as if he was afraid she would disappear if he looked away. "We don't have much time, Susan. Might as well act the way we feel."

Delenn put a plate of fruit, including an already peeled orange in sections, in front of John, and stood close by him while he ate. "It is strange to me as well, Susan. But it is as it is. We only have the time we have, and we must make the most of it."

Finishing her orange, Susan wiped her hands on a napkin on the counter, and asked carefully, "How are you going to explain this living situation to the Sisters when you get back?"

"First of all, I am not certain I am going back. They have given me instructions to investigate the possibility of running for President of the Alliance. That may take some time. Secondly," here she sighed, and took a seat at the counter on the other side of John. "I must take some notice of their wishes, and keep the promises I have made, but this is easily covered by Minbari tradition. It is an honoured task among my people to give aid and comfort to the ill and...dying." She stuttered a bit over the final word.

"Aid and comfort, eh? Is that what they're calling it these days?" Susan caught an expressive look of disapproval from John. "All right, all right. I just want to make sure I'm not going to be in trouble with the Minbari over this. I still have to work with them."

John pushed back the empty plate, receiving an approving look from both women, and said, "Susan, we need a favor. A big one."

"Aren't they always?" She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, and said, "What is it this time? Go back in time and steal back Babylon Four? Sneak some nukes on to the station? What?"

Delenn and John exchanged glances. Delenn spoke, "We need you to take us to Coriana Six."

Surprised by the request, Susan sat there for a moment, then said, "I don't suppose you mean 'take' as in put you aboard the Presidential Liner, with a full staff and medical people and military escort, do you? Nothing official?" She watched them both looking at her hopefully and sighed. "Secret mission it is then. It'll take me about, oh, two days, to get ready. There are some small maintenance issues with the ship, and half my crew is out on leave. You take today to yourselves, and tomorrow set things up so your people can take over without too much trouble. Then we'll smuggle you aboard, and off we go! Are you sure you won't need special medical attention?" She was looking hard at John, who shrugged.

"I only have a week or two left. The doctors figure more like six months, but I can...I don't know, feel it somehow. Like a clock running down, or a gauge swinging towards zero. Get us to Coriana, Susan. I don't know what's waiting there, but I know I have to go."

"I'll get you there," said Susan. "Both of you."


	6. Promises to Keep

It was surprisingly easy to sneak them aboard the EAS Phoenix. Susan detailed a group of crew members to play tourist, and the whole group of them met John and Delenn just outside the Alliance sector, and surrounded them, moving as a group towards the docking bay. They were noisy and loud and obnoxious and they were studiously ignored by station personnel and occupants. John's hover-chair, and a hooded Delenn went unnoticed in the center of the crowd. Babylon Five was used to ship crews on leave, and those inhabitants that weren't trying to sell them something, or steal something from them, didn't pay much attention.

John had left copious instructions on everything going on with the Alliance, and had gone over everything with Delenn in detail as well, assuming she was coming back to the station and could assist whoever was put in charge temporarily. He gave her biographies and backgrounds on all the top staff members, and she complained that it was too much to absorb and not what she wanted to be doing in any case. She began to subvert his efforts, distracting him in ways that often led to hours of lying on the bed, touching and talking quietly, telling each other all the things they'd missed in each other's lives the past ten years.

There had also been frightening episodes of pain, and coughing, and fighting for breath. He had medication, which he hated taking, but she insisted, and the look on her face was enough to convince him. He mentally cursed over and over again the circumstances that had brought them back together, but couldn't regret a moment of time spent with her.

Once they had gotten settled on board, John had requested Phillip come by when he was off duty. Coincidentally, Susan had given the young ensign quite a number of short, easy shifts on the trip out. Delenn left them alone to talk at first, but soon John asked her to stay, and she quickly grew fond of Phillip on the short trip. There wasn't time to contact Elizabeth, but John gave Phillip a recorded message for his sister, and hoped that she would forgive him not doing more.

When they arrived in the Coriana system, no one knew quite what to do next.

"I want to set up in orbit around Coriana Six. Phoenix has a large shuttle we could take, doesn't it?" John was sitting in his chair, his chin resting on his fist. There was a small tube pumping oxygen into his nostrils, and he looked drawn and tired. Delenn sat next to him, trying to look unconcerned, while Susan sat opposite them, glaring.

"I'm supposed to send the two of you out into space, alone. Can you pilot the shuttle, Delenn? I don't think John's up to it. And then what, we wait? For what? How long? Why can't I go with you?" This last turned out sounding suspiciously like a plea.

John gave her a weak smile. "You come, pilot the thing, put us in orbit. Delenn can keep us in orbit, easily enough. Then you come back here in a flyer. We'll check in daily, but I don't think it will be long."

Susan glanced over at Delenn, whose eyes had closed, in prayer or pain she couldn't tell. "That could work. My crew isn't too happy about this, but they're giving me the benefit of the doubt at this point. It doesn't hurt that Delenn's with you. The two of you have achieved mythic status at this point, and combined with where we are, well. They're expecting something to happen, something big."

"I hope they will not be too greatly disappointed," said Delenn calmly.

Susan took them over, complaining all the way that she wasn't to be allowed to stay. She made them both swear to check in every eight hours, and said she'd give them two days before coming back. Her last sight of them was of Delenn was sitting in the pilot's seat, with John next to her. Eight hours later, she received a signal that all was well. Three hours after that, she was called to the bridge of the Phoenix.

"The detectors are picking up something, over near the shuttle, ma'am. We thought you'd want to know."

"Can you tell what it is? Is it a ship?" Susan settled into the captain's chair, and quizzed her crew.

"Negative. Not a ship, just some kind of energy field. It's centered on the shuttle now, and it's getting stronger." The lieutenant watched the readings on her screens in fascination. "I've never seen anything like it."

_I'll bet I have_, Susan thought to herself. _And so it begins, or rather ends._

__"Orders, Ma'am?" asked Lt. Commander Harris.

"Hold steady, Harris. We'll wait to see if we're invited to the party."

Aboard the shuttle, things were very quiet. It was a small ship, a dozen seats in the back, and a small bridge just big enough for John's chair, and two stations for a pilot and co-pilot/navigator. There was about enough room to pace three meters in any direction without hitting a curved wall. Delenn was sitting in the pilot's chair, attempting to meditate. She hadn't been doing much of that lately, and was feeling the strain of going without her ritual. It was difficult to focus with John's hoarse breathing sounding in her ears, and she fought to keep from asking him how he felt every few minutes.

"Are you finding it difficult to concentrate?"

The voice was not John's and her eyes snapped open in alarm. Turning her head, she saw the person she most feared to see at that moment, standing behind her.

Lorien went over to the chair where John was leaning back, briefly and tenuously asleep. "He is almost there," he said, passing his hand over John's head. "It is almost time." The alien walked back to Delenn, and took the co-pilot's seat. "It was good of you to come."

"You asked me to...you appeared to me, in a dream," Delenn was almost dazed with the suddenness of it. Although expected, now that it was upon her, she found herself straining to keep from calling Susan to come and get them, to take them away. It was panic-driven, and she took a moment to calm herself.

"That is true." He stroked his chin with his long fingers. "Things did not work out as I anticipated. But that is the way of the Universe, always changing, adapting to circumstance." He saw that she was watching John anxiously. "Would you like me to help him?"

"Can you? And what do you mean by help?" She couldn't keep the suspicion from her voice.

"You are cautious. That is good. It is his time to leave this place, but I can relieve his pain temporarily, long enough for you to say good-bye." He went over to John, and laid his hand on his forehead. There was a brief wave of energy, almost visible, that passed from him to the sleeping man.

Delenn noted immediately that the sound of his breathing was gone. She was up in an instant and pressed her ear to his chest, but it was rising and falling as before, just without the rasping, choking sound she to which she had grown so quickly accustomed. She looked up at Lorien, who nodded slightly, and stepped back. "John?" she said, gently touching his shoulder.

He woke with a start. "What is it?" Then as he took a deep breath, with no pain and no cough, he said "What's going on?" His blue eyes stared into Delenn's tear-filled green ones.

"Lorien is here," she said simply.

He turned his head, and caught sight of the First One. Then he tentatively stood up, and Delenn couldn't help but smile at his delight in the return of his mobility and health. "Can we have a little while?" he asked the alien.

The alien inclined his head, his eyes filled with pity, "Just a little. I will wait back here, but we must go soon. I cannot keep you in this state long, and I am not supposed to be here at all. We have not forgotten you, but we did not expect the call so soon."

"Yeah well, neither did I. I don't suppose..." He stopped short as Lorien shook his head. "No, I didn't think so." He took a moment to stretch his arms out to either side, reveling in the lack of pain from broken ribs and damaged lungs. He took a deep breath and blew it out, just because he could.

Delenn watched Lorien wander to the back of the shuttle, making little comments as he went, about the ship, and the people watching them, presumably on the Phoenix. "John," she said, and then she couldn't speak because he had crushed her in his arms, and was kissing her hard and deep, so long she couldn't breathe and no longer wanted to. Responding instantly with ardor and a passion too long denied, she could no longer tell where her body ended and his began. This, this was what she had wanted...what she had missed for ten long lonely years, and now she had only minutes left before it ended again and forever. The pain of this thought surged through her like a rushing tide, but his hands stroking and caressing her everywhere, caught the pain and caged it, leaving only pleasure behind.

When, in a few moments, they paused to catch their breath, John looked at her, thinking this was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do...harder than leaving her to go with Anna to Z'ha'dum, harder than waiting for her to return from Minbar knowing somehow, deep down, that she never would. But he knew it was harder to be the one to stay behind. "Promise me," he began to say.

"Anything. Everything," she replied instantly.

"Stay here. Don't try to follow me, into death, or beyond the Rim, or wherever I'm going. I want you to live a long, happy life. Work on making the Alliance last a thousand years, like we planned." He smiled at her, touching her face, stroking her hair, trying to will her to understand, and to agree.

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming at him. _There is no happiness without you. There is no life without you._ But she could not deny him anything at that moment. "I promise," she said, and kissed him again.

He caught hold of her hands, holding them tightly between their bodies as they continued to press closer to each other, trying to stave off the inevitable, trying not to listen for approaching footfalls from the rear section of the ship. _I love you_, they said between kisses; to each other, one after the other, in response, and in unison, over and over. Until...

Lorien was there, beside them, and said, "It is time."

John, still standing and holding onto Delenn's hands, said desperately, "I can't go now. We've only just found each other again."

"You will always find one another." Lorien looked at them both with infinite sadness, and infinite compassion. "You must let go now. This body is not able to sustain your soul any more."

"I can't!" Even as he spoke, he began to feel warmth flooding through him, and his skin began to glow, a soft white glow that seemed to come from both within and without him. "I won't leave her."

"She has more to do in this world. Leave her now, and when it is time, you will find her." Lorien spoke patiently, repeating his direction as you would to an beloved but errant child.

Delenn kept tight hold of John's hands, though they were beginning to burn her. "Please," she said. "Please, John." Her voice was choked with tears that she would not release. She would not let her vision blur lest she miss one moment of their remaining time.

He dropped her hands, and reached for the chain around her neck. Gently pulling it over her head and crest, he undid the clasp, and let the fine interlocking metal links slide through his fingers and fall to the deck. Holding the ring in one hand, he picked up her left hand with the other, and slowly slid the ring over her finger. "You can wear it now," he said, watching the diamond burn with reflected flame.

"I suppose I can..." she said, never taking her eyes from his face, "but there is no meaning in it. Not any more."

"No," he answered urgently. "I told you when I gave it to you, this ring is a kind of promise. I'm making you a new promise." Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her gently on the forehead and said, "I swear I'll come for you, Delenn. When it's time, I'll come."

Lorien held out his hand, and John turned towards him, stepping away from Delenn. The light grew brighter, and she couldn't see either of them clearly. She heard John's voice once more, saying in a voice filled with wonder and awe, "Well, look at that..."

Then the light flared, brighter and clearer than any light she had every seen. It was as if a thousand suns were rising over the horizon, all at the same time. She screamed, just once, as if her heart had been pierced by fire, and slumped to the deck unconscious.

Susan Ivanova had flown her personal flyer over to the shuttle alone. Those on the Phoenix had seen the bright flash of light that had centered on the small craft, and then spread out to encompass their own. It had passed as quickly as it had come, and when it was gone, they had been unable to raise anyone on the com system of the shuttle. After trying for almost an hour, Susan had declared that she would go over and check it out. After pulling rank on her concerned second in command, and threatening dire consequences to the rest of the bridge crew if they continued to protest, she got the flyer out of dock and flew over to the shuttle. There was a small docking station, and she maneuvered the little flyer into position and used her command override to activate the lock, and let her inside. She walked down the short corridor to the main control area. Delenn was sitting on the floor, her forehead resting on her knees. She was still breathing, Susan was relieved to see. There was no one else there.

Approaching her quietly, she sat down beside her friend, and placed one hand on her shoulder, "He's gone, isn't he?"

"Yes." The answer was clearly spoken, although Delenn's face stayed hidden.

Susan was silent for a moment, looking out the viewscreen at the unmoving stars. Finally she asked, "Was it worth it?"

"Yes," came the answer again, and this time Delenn looked up.

Susan could see her face now, white and calm. Reaching over, she gently touched the Minbari's forehead, where there was a reddened mark. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Oh yes," said Delenn. "I did. But it will fade in time." She stood up, and looked down at Susan, whose face was drawn and closed. She held out her hand to her friend, and said, "Come. We have much work to do."

Susan took her hand, noting it had the same reddened areas marking the skin, and got up. She went to the control panel to start up the shuttle's engines. "Where do you want to go?"

"Back to your ship, then back to the station. I need to begin the process of, what was it you called it? Putting my hat into the ring?" She touched her crest briefly, and Susan saw the fiery glint of a diamond on her finger. "I do not wear a hat. Is that a problem?"

Susan laughed, "It's a metaphor."

Wryly, Delenn remarked, "I should have known." Going over to the navigation console, she said nonchalantly, "Have you ever considered a career in politics, Susan?"

"No way! I'm not good at that kind of work! All bureaucracy and paperwork, being nice to people you'd just as soon space..." She banged one of the levers on the panel and the ship's engines began to thrum and vibrate. "There, that's got it. It looks like an electro-magnetic pulse went through here, but the back-up systems are okay."

"Hmm," said Delenn, as the panel beneath her hands lit up. "Perhaps you would care to lead the Rangers? You would make an excellent Anla'Shok Na."

Susan stared at her. "You're being a little premature, aren't you?"

"No," said Delenn. "Just optimistic." She smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. "Besides, I made a promise. I mean to keep it." She straightened her back, and shifted her shoulders, as if to ease a heavy burden, made lighter only by his promise that this was not the end.

It was only the end of the beginning.


End file.
